“Cooper to Stewart,” he said, digging out his communicator. “Come in, please.”
“Stewart here, sir. We're about two miles from the base...”
“Never mind that for the moment. Have you encountered any activity at all?”
“No, sir, not a thing.”
“Get ready. I'm going to launch a flare.”
“What?” Walpis said, racing forward. “Sir, we'll be spotted in seconds.”
“I don't think so,” Cooper replied, tossing the device up, the on-board rocket activating after a second to kick it up to a safe distance before it exploded, a light as strong as the sun briefly illuminating the plain. Cooper counted down the seconds, waiting for something to happen, then looked at Walpis.
“Nothing.”
“A trick,” Kelot said, thumping the side of the buggy. “We're been decoyed.”
“There were people there,” Walpis said, shaking his head. “I saw them myself this morning. At least fifty people.”
“They might have been there this morning, Corporal, but I doubt if they are there now.” Speaking into his communicator again, he said, “Stewart, what's the terrain like near you? Flat?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then mark out a landing zone and hold your position. Call Battle Pass and tell them to prepare for extraction when I give the word.” Glancing at his watch, he said, “If everything goes as I'm expecting, we'll be on our way in half an hour.”
“You don't want us to advance to the base, sir?”
“Hold position, Corporal. That's an order.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied.
“Good. Cooper out.” Turning to Kelot, he gestured at the side of the crack, and the two of them started to climb up and back onto the surface of the plain, easing themselves up hand-over-hand, Rhodes and Walpis right behind them. Anyone at the base would spot them in a second as they walked inside, but by this point, he didn't expect anyone to be there at all.
“The buggies could have been brought in by shuttle,” Walpis suggested. “There was so much chaos on the surface...”
“No,” Cooper said, shaking his head. “I'd been assuming they could simply climb the pass. If they couldn't...”
“Impossible,” Kelot interrupted.
“Then there must be something else going on, and I want to find out what.”
The four men trudged across the plain, the pair of black domes just ahead, surrounded by the buggies as silent sentinels, watching them approach. The barrels of their cannons slowly turned as they moved forward, causing Cooper to pause for a long moment, holding his breath as he anticipated his doom, but once more, nothing happened. Just automatic systems, registering a threat but with no one around to report it to.
“This is crazy, sir,” Rhodes said, his eyes darting about. “Any moment now, they'll leap out and get us, I swear.” He shook his head, and added, “Let's go back, sir. Pull back to the new landing zone and get back to Alamo.”
“No matter what happens, I don't think we're heading upstairs yet,” Cooper replied, moving forward. The gathering storm swirled around him, snow biting into his face, red patches on his cheeks were the skin was raw. He kept himself warm by inwardly composing the memo for the designers of their cold weather gear when they returned to the Confederation, trying to come up with a way of describing their current situation without using language that would get him court-martialed.
He finally realized they were safe when he saw the outer hatch of the nearest dome, wide open to the elements, snow building up in the lee of the door. Jogging through the barrier of armored vehicles, pistol in hand, he raced for the shelter, Kelot right behind him, the others hanging back to cover the rear, looking around at the abandoned base.
Cooper stepped inside, the blast of warm air instantly soothing him, looking around at the orderly space inside. The dome was partitioned in two, the whine of the heater filling the room, almost deafening, but other than that, everything was in its proper place, as though the occupants had merely stepped out of the room for a moment.
“This was orderly,” he said. “Wherever they went, they had plenty of time.”
“I don't understand,” Rhodes said, stepping in. “We saw their vehicles moving around earlier, and we've had the place under constant watch for days. No shuttles have been anywhere near here.” Shaking his head, he added, “There isn't even a landing pad. They'd melt the ice if they tried to touch down.”
“That's true,” Kelot added. “The first prisoners had to be dropped by parachute with the supplies to build an airhead. I heard it took four attempts before they managed it.”
“They could have operated the vehicles remotely,” Cooper replied, “using some sort of expert system, or a prearranged program. It wouldn't be hard to arrange. Besides, I think they were here this morning, just as we thought.”
“Then where are they?” Rhodes asked.
Stepping through the door into the other chamber, Cooper had his answer. Inside, dominating the room, was a tunnel heading down into the darkness, a constant drip running down as the ice around melted, footprints all around. He turned to a dazed Kelot, shaking his head.
“You told me they had a tunnel network, a secret series of shafts connecting installations. I think we've just found the furthest extent.”
Shaking his head, the Neander replied, “They didn't have a base here.”
“I'm sure they didn't. All of the material was in the tunnel, waiting, and the buggies airlifted in, probably in concealed facilities all over this area. A last refuge in the event of a successful slave revolt, a place where they could rally for a counter-attack.” Shaking his head, he said, “And I bet they all came right from their Command Center. No wonder they blew it up so quickly. They were covering their escape.” He pulled out his communicator, and said, “Cooper to Alamo, urgent.”
“Why now?” Kelot asked.
“Because they're ready to launch the second part of their offensive. They want you and your people dead, Kelot. Wiped out, so they can bring in a new wave of settlers for this planet, but to send a message to their other slaves about the price of resistance.” He paused, then said, “Besides, if I was in command here, I'd treat the arrival of any substantial force moving in my direction as a tripwire to act.” Peering down into the tunnel, he said, “That's got to be a good ten miles. We might have a little time.”
“Before what?”
“Before they launch their attack, Kelot,” Cooper said. “Alamo, this is Cooper. I need both shuttles for immediate pickup, and I mean yesterday!”
Chapter 18
Gently, Salazar played the thrusters of the shuttle around, bringing it down to its proper position on the landing pad, navigating through the falling snow. He glanced at his console, noting that there was an incoming transmission from Alamo, someone on hold, but before he could reply, he saw a crowd gathering outside the airlock, Neander bearing rifles, led by Lostok, two of them armed with shoulder-mounted missiles that were well-capable of penetrating the shuttle's flimsy hull.
He glanced across at Maqua, his perpetual co-pilot, and said, “Finish post-flight, will you, and see what Alamo wants. I'd better go out and find out why we have our own personal lynch mob waiting outside.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, concentrating on this panel, tapping controls and throwing switches as though he had been riding these shuttles for years, not a few days. He flashed him a quick smile, throwing off his restraints as he made his way to the airlock. Before he opened it, he pulled out his pistol, leveling it at the door, and tapped a series of controls to isolate the pilot's cabin from the rest of the ship.
As the hatch slid open, the crowd surged forward, held back only by the urgings of Lostok. Ghewon was standing next to him, a stern expression on his face, darkening as he saw the sidearm nestled in Salazar's hand.
“What's going on?” he asked.
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“We want Maqua,” Lostok said. “Turn him over to us, right now.”
“What the hell for?”
“He is responsible for sabotaging one of our ships, causing it to crash into one of your transfer shuttles.” He paused, then added, “I'm afraid Lieutenant Kibaki and Spaceman Parker are dead, as well as two of our people.” Gesturing into the shuttle, he said, “Maqua worked on the shuttle that was sabotaged.”
The news that two of his friends had died stunned him for a second, but shaking off his sorrow, he said,“So did I. And Ghewon. And half a dozen other people.” Raising his pistol, he said, “I know exactly what this is about Lostok. He's the only suspect you have that isn't Highborn, and you're so locked in that tiny little mind of yours that you can't conceive that he might be just as determined to save his people as you. More, damn it. While you've been sitting in your office sending your luxuries up to the transport while your people wait around for the chance of survival, he's been flying, fourteen hours a day, trying to beat the deadline.” A few of the crowd looked around, but the two Highborn had them well-cowed.
“Your Captain has granted me authority in this matter, Sub-Lieutenant. You might be willing to shout me down, but she has given you orders to follow my instructions. I have all the evidence I need for a conviction.” Stepping forward, he said, “Turn over Maqua to me, right now.”
Salazar thought of the call from Alamo, the message he hadn't been able to read, and paused for a second, before replying, “No. I've been with him almost all the time, and if he had managed some sort of master plan, I'd know about it. Which shuttle was destroyed?”
“Twenty-Three.”
“Weren't you working on that, Ghewon?” he asked, taking a desperate shot in the dark.
“As you say, so were many others,” the Neander replied, “but in this case, I bow to the judgment of the Guild Master. If he believes that Maqua is guilty, I'm forced to abide by his decision.”
Shaking his head, Salazar replied, “I'm not giving him up, not to face trial in a drum-head court that has already decided his guilt! I don't care if you have a postcard from the President, I will not turn over this man.”
“What is he to you, anyway?” Lostok said. “He's just Undercaste!”
There were more murmurs from the crowd, and Salazar said, “He isn't 'just' anything. No one is 'just' anything. Maqua is a good pilot, potentially a great one, and I consider him a friend. I don't give a damn who his parents were, or where he was raised. I only know that I trust him, as I would anyone else I have served with. I've already lost two friends today, and I'm not going to lose a third because some prejudiced old fool decided that he was guilty!” Waving his pistol around, he said, “I've got six bullets in this gun, and there are a damn sight more of you here. If you charge me, you'll get me, and maybe kill my friend and I. But I won't die alone.” Gesturing at Lostok, he said, “You lead the charge, Lostok. You run into my gun, bringing these people with you. Maybe I'll miss.”
“I don't have to,” he said, gesturing at one of the missile-armed Neander. “At one word from me, that shuttle is destroyed, and the two of you with it.”
Nodding, Salazar said, “So that's thirty people who have to stay behind on the planet. Who here is going to volunteer themselves or their families for that?” Gesturing at Lostok, he said, “That man doesn't give a damn about any of you, and he's been dragging out this evacuation for his own benefit!”
“Kill him,” Lostok said, and one of the Neander moved to fire, before Ghewon stopped him, a thin smile on his face as he pushed down the gunman's arm. The crowd was looking at each other, weapons dropping, and Lostok continued, “Perhaps you are the traitor! How do we know you are not in league with the Xandari, luring us into a trap? They've used your technology in the past, we know that. Perhaps you are giving it to them?”
That fired the Neander up again, and they started to push towards him. He pointed his gun at the nearest, an old, gray-haired man with a limp, desperation in his eyes, who knew that Salazar had the power to take away his life, but would obey his leader anyway, to the death. With a sigh, the pilot tossed his gun to the side, the sidearm clattering on the deck of the shuttle.
“I can't do it, Lostok,” he said. “I can't shoot innocent people. That would drop me to your level, and I don't think I'd like the company. The only way anyone dies here today is if you order it, so go right ahead.”
The hatch behind him opened, and Maqua walked out, shaking his head, saying, “Thank you, sir, but I cannot ask you to die for me.” He looked at Lostok, and said, “I didn't do it. I didn't sabotage the ship, and I would never do anything that was not in the best interests of our people.”
“You are not one of our people any more,” the Guild Master said with a sneer. “I have stripped you of your name, your title, your position, your very soul. You might breathe, but you live no more.”
Shaking his head, Maqua said, “I feel sorry for you, Lostok.” Turning to Salazar, a tear in the corner of his eye, he said, “Thank you, sir. For everything you have done. I'm only sorry that you have been placed in jeopardy because of me.”
“You don't need to do this,” Salazar replied, as the crowd slowly moved forward.
With a deep sigh, Maqua said, “I have my duty, sir, and I will not place the survival of my people at risk by depriving them of a ship.”
“That's your traitor,” Salazar said, looking at him. “Someone so willing to do you harm that he refuses to let a ship that he could wreck be destroyed, so that your families can seek safety up on the transport.” Shaking his head, he said, “As soon as Captain Orlova hears about this, Lostok, I promise you that the consequences of your actions will be serious.”
“That could take some time, Sub-Lieutenant,” Lostok said. “Put them both under arrest, and take them to the secured holding area. We'll be sure to leave a shuttle for him, but by then we'll be in hendecaspace.”
Looking at him, Ghewon said, “You can't leave them here to die.”
“I'm not,” he said. “I'm leaving them to their friends, the Xandari. No doubt they'll treat them exactly as the deserve, as they would any other failure. Take them.”
Two of the Neander stepped forward, but before they could move, one of the domes exploded on the perimeter, and they turned to see a column of Xandari troops marching into the compound, firing weapons almost at random, mowing down the crowds that were waiting to board the shuttles. Salazar stepped forward, rage in his eyes, and knocked Lostok to the ground with a single strike on the jaw as the screams of the dying echoed around the field.
“They're dead because of you!” he yelled. “All of them are dead because of you!”
Behind him, he heard the shuttle's engines roar, the ship riding up on its landing jets, roaring over the landscape towards the Xandari, narrowing missing the crowd on the ground. Lostok looked up at Salazar, triumph on his face, as for a second he doubted his friend, wondered if perhaps the Guild Master had been right. Then a smile slid across his face, as he realized what Maqua was doing, a rattle of gunfire rebounding across the hull.
He'd gunned the shuttle up to five hundred feet, just high enough that when he jumped free, he'd have enough time for the parachute to open, before the ship he'd been flying began it's last, deadly curve, crashing into the head of the Xandari attack as they tried to scatter, the explosion sending a column of smoke racing into the air. Salazar raced toward towards the dropping canopy, the erstwhile lynch mob behind him, taking shots at any enemy troopers they could see. A second dome erupted in flame to his right, an attack on another front, and Ghewon took the rest of the crowd over to repel it, leaving the battered Lostok alone on the ground, looking around in panic.
Maqua dropped to the ground, looking in fear at the approaching group before Salazar reached him, grabbing him by both shoulders and spinning him around, the others slapping him on the back and cheering his name.
“The shuttle might have been unarmed, but it could still do some damage,” he said, looking back at the carnage. “I thought I'd be able to get out in time.”
“That was a hell of a risk.”
“It seemed better than the alternative,” he replied, looking around at the people who had wanted to kill him scant seconds ago, now celebrating his survival.
Looking around, Salazar said, “Go find the shuttle pilots, and let's try and get some order out of this chaos. We're not out to hold this piece of real estate, we're out to leave as fast as we can.” The sound of machine gun fire rattled around in the rear, and he added, “I want all shuttles on Launch Pads A and B loaded, right now. Never mind about departure orders and baggage, get everyone moving!”
“Right,” one of the Neander said, gesturing at another, “You head over to Dome Three, I'll gather the stragglers on the runway.”
“We need to set up a defensive perimeter,” Salazar said, as a pair of shuttles roared overhead, sending a moment of panic across his face before he recognized the familiar markings of Alamo on the side, the Triplanetary livery bringing a smile of relief as the shuttles lowered to the deck, hatches opening up almost before they had even reached the ground, Cooper and Kelot leading the way. Lostok looked up at them, shaking his head, and one of the Neander ran across to the old man, taking him to one of the waiting shuttles.
“You really know how to throw a party, Pavel,” Cooper said, racing towards him. “Why didn't you answer any of our signals?”
“I was too busy dealing with a lynch mob,” he replied, as a third dome exploded, one of the agricultural plants destroyed beyond repair. The Xandari weren't just attempting to wipe out the colonists, but the colony as well, as if the failure was too great a burden for them to bear. “Maqua here knocked out a good twenty of them, but...”
“I got a good look as we came down.” Turning to Walpis, he said, “Set up a defensive perimeter around the landing pads. We've got to keep them safe as long as possible. Kelot, I know you'll want to get to your ships...”
Battlecruiser Alamo: Forbidden Seas Page 17
